The Phantom and the Count
by lotrluv
Summary: A seventeen-year-old girl is being hunted by Count Dracula, and comes upon the Phantom of the Opera, two years after the famous incident...
1. Prelude

"And now," continued Count Vladislaus Dracula, stepping closer to his future bride, whom he had chained to the dungeon wall, "Now, I can finally make you mine."

The girl, a seventeen-year-old brunette, struggled under Dracula's gaze. The chains were tight, and would not loosen. The girl, whose name was Allena, hated the Count with a passion. He had drawn her in, unknowing, to meet her end here, now, in this dungeon, which reeked of evil.

"I must tell you," Dracula continued, smirking as he brushed his fingers lightly against her thigh, "I doubted whether I would be able to find another bride such as Marishka, but you..."

He stood in front of Allena, only centimeters from her face.

"... You are strong, my dear, strong and beautiful!"

Allena gritted her teeth.

"You do not deserve to live," she said quietly, as he took a few steps away from her.

"True, true..." said Dracula, nodding. "Which is why I am dead."

Allena gave him a disgusted look. He laughed.

"My darling!" he suddenly shouted, spreading his arms and walking toward her. "You will soon know the release of your desire; you will soon meet your passion's consort!"

Letting his arms drop, Dracula pinned Allena to him with his eyes. Slowly, he descended upon her, his nails digging into her shoulders so that little streams of blood oozed from the wounds. Seeing this blood, he bent his head and slowly ran his tongue across her neck.

Allena cringed as he did this, but could not move.

Dracula, now having tasted Allena's blood, pushed against her as his fangs elongated, and his demonic half showed. He lowered his head once more...

Allena struggled as much as she dared. She couldn't break the bonds...

... and Dracula bit down.

Blood gushed from Allena's open wound, and Dracula greedily drank this.

Allena's world was slowly darkening. She knew that to truly become a vampire, she would have to drink Dracula's blood... And she didn't think she'd have the strength to resist...

She heard a crash from somewhere...

Darkening...

A female voice screeching...

Darkening...

Dracula had left...

Allena knew no more.


	2. The Opera House

**Thanx for all the great reviews! I'm not sure if to truly become a vampire you have to drink the vampire's blood as well, but for the purposes of this story, if you don't, you are a vampire but still have your soul.**

Light.

Slowly, Allena's sight came back, and she regained consciousness.

She wondered where she was. Then memory came back to her, and she realized she should be in the dungeons of Castle Frankenstein. But... she wasn't.

Or, at least, it didn't look like it, from what her groggy vision told her.

It was nighttime, and she was lying in a field of grass, surrounded by flowers. She sneezed, being allergic to the pollen.

Slowly, she attempted to pull herself up to a sitting position. This was not an easy task, as almost every bone and muscle in her body ached, and it felt like her limbs were made of lead. There were bruises on her arms and legs, but she had no idea how they had gotten there. She felt her cheek; there was a deep slash running down the side, caked with dry blood.

Now as she sat, she could also feel a pounding in her head: a horrible headache. Groaning, she lifted her hand to feel the back of her head, and there, sure enough, was a large bump.

Allena sighed and let her hand fall, caressing the soft grass with her fingertips.

She did not know why, or how... but... somehow, she felt different. Not because of the wounds or muscle pains, but she no longer felt like herself. Allena couldn't pinpoint what was wrong...

Then she remembered.

Her hand flew up to her neck. She felt the two holes in her skin.

Her breathing became hard and labored. She was a vampire. Allena could not believe it. But if she was a vampire, then why...

She hadn't bitten Dracula. She knew, somehow, that she hadn't. And since she hadn't bitten Dracula... that meant she was...

Free. She was free. Allena hurriedly stood up, wobbling on one leg before she got her balance. Wherever Dracula was, he would be coming back for her soon. Wherever _she_ was.

Allena looked around. The only thing that looked familiar to her were the mountains to the east.

She knew she would have to get away, but how? She had no horse... but she _was_ a vampire.

Allena tried to concentrate all her energies on transforming. She had absolutely no idea how to do it, but she'd seen the other vampires do it.

She tried and tried, but remained human. Maybe she _wasn't_ a vampire after all. Maybe she just didn't have any blood left, and was some sort of walking zombie...

She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow. Dracula would find her soon. No matter how fast she ran, he would find her. _Damn him,_ she thought, _I hate him, that evil, vile_ _creature..._

Suddenly Allena felt very strange. Her skin felt as though it was beginning to crawl, moving of its own accord... And suddenly she felt a strange prickling sensation on her lower lip. Opening her mouth, she reached up – and her finger touched a long, pointed eyetooth.

She shivered. Suddenly she realized her clothes were materializing into her skin... and her back felt strangely contorted, as if...

Allena turned around.

And saw the wings.

That was all the proof she needed. She would not waste any more time. Flapping her wings to test them first, she pushed off of the ground and flew into the night.

The wind was cold, bitter, and strangely refreshing to Allena. She silently glided over the mountains, and now could recognize her hometown. But no, she could not go back, else Dracula should find her and destroy her neighbors and friends. She had no family left... he had killed them all.

On and on she flew... for how many hours, she did not know... she just hoped she was far away from Dracula when she landed in a city street a fair distance away from where she'd started.

It was still night, obviously, and Allena had a feeling that, though she still had her soul, her vampire half would not permit her to survive in sunlight.

"Mademoiselle!"

Allena quickly turned around to see who had spoken. A short, bald man wearing a bright colored vest was standing outside a huge, dark building, obviously closing up for the night.

"Mademoiselle," he repeated, "It ees not safe to be out zis late at night! Where ees your home?"

Allena looked down at her feet. She had transformed back into a human when she landed, she realized. But she had no idea how to tell this man where she had come from.

"Uh... I - well, I..." she stammered.

The man put his hand up to his ear. "What?"

Allena sighed, and decided to tell him the truth – well, some of the truth.

"I am lost, sir," she said. "I have been traveling, and I'm not sure where I am..."

The man looked surprised. Then Allena realized she must be somewhere in France, judging by his accent and her surroundings. She also realized it must be very peculiar to have a Transylvanian just show up on your doorstep this late at night...

"You are in Bordeaux, mademoiselle," said the man, his brow creasing. "Where do you come from?"

"Transylvania, but..." Allena hesitated. The thought that had been trying to surface had finally succeeded. She could not go back to Transylvania, at least not while Dracula was still there. "I - well, I've left Transylvania... for a long time, I think," she told the man.

"Do you have anywhere to stay?" he asked, concern now filling his features.

Allena shrugged. "I suppose I'll have to find somewhere to stay."

The man paused, appearing to be thinking. "Can you sing?" he said suddenly.

"Um..." Allena stuttered, taken by surprise at the question, "Well, yes, but I've never been formally trained, just here and there –"

"Sing for me."

Allena stared at him in disbelief. "_Now?_"

The man nodded.

Allena shrugged and tried to think of what to sing. An old song that her parents used to sing to her when she was a child came to mind.

She began to sing:

"When you find yourself looking up at the horizon

Know this: someone is waiting for you.

When you achieve the impossible in your dreams

Know this: someone is watching over you.

When –"

"Bravo!"

The man stopped her in mid-song, his mood considerably happier than before. "You would be perfect for my opera! Would you conzider a job as a chorus zinger, madame?"

Allena paused to weigh her choices. If she said no, she would have to find somewhere else to stay. The opera house, which was apparently what the man was closing up, looked dismal and gloomy at first, but then, she _was_ a vampire, and needed the dark. On the other hand, if she worked for this man, obviously the owner of the opera house, she wouldn't be able to leave, to find her friends. She would have to start a new life.

Sighing, Allena knew she had but one choice: the opportunity had come, and she would have to take it.

"I would be honored, monsieur," she said to the man, attempting to smile.

The man's face brightened as he motioned her inside.

She stepped up beside him, smiled, and walked inside. Hearing the door close behind her, and the click of many locks, she looked at her new surroundings and gasped.

Unlike the dismal outside of the opera house, the inside was glittery and colorful. Marble statues lined the entryway, leading to a wide staircase in the center of the entrance hall. Made entirely of marble, the staircase itself was mesmerizing. It was grand and elegant, seeming to glow softly in the dim light that was cast by the many torches glittering in their brackets.

"You'll have to excuze the lack of light," said the man, stepping up beside her. "We are trying to save electricity."

"This is marvelous," Allena murmured in awe.

"What eez your name, child?" asked the man curiously.

"Allena Rictarius," said Allena.

"Aaah, a lovely name," said the man. "I am Monsieur Fazier Le Velaer, the owner and manager of my opera house." He waved his arm, indicating the whole opera house.

"I am honored to meet you," said Allena.

Velaer smiled. "Come, we must get you into bed," he said, checking his pocket watch. "I will show you to your room."

He began to walk across the vast, empty room to the staircase. Short though he was, he was quite fast. Allena walked quickly to catch up with him.

As they were on their way to her room, Velaer began to talk about everything around every corner.

"... yes, that is an ancient replica of a painting from Ancient Rome ..."

"... but these halls were built long before I came here ..."

Allena had been trying to mentally navigate her way from the entrance hall to her room, but gave up after the fourth hallway and second staircase.

Finally, Velaer turned left and opened a door.

"Ah, I believe this one is empty," he said, and escorted her inside.

Allena found herself feeling very foolish. She had absolutely nothing, no possessions... nothing aside from the clothes she wore.

"We will find you a suitable wardrobe in the morning, mademoiselle," he said, as if he'd read her mind. "Good night."

He shut the door, and Allena suddenly found that she was not tired at all, but... thirsty.

Thirsty for blood.


	3. Erik's Past

**Okay... let me clarify here...** **Allena is_ not _half-vampire, she _is_ a vampire, she just did not bite Dracula so she's still got her soul. Sorry about the confusion...**

Stillness... silence.

An echoing silence.

A frightening silence.

The world of silence is known to those taunted by others, shunned by others, tortured by others. It is a silence so deep that none can penetrate it, a loneliness so horrible that a weak man who has found himself within it is likely to feel death's icy grip upon him and welcome it. The stillness eventually drives one to insanity, and causes attempts to persue and conquer death. There is none in the silence who aids, none who offers a comforting arm. When one is trapped in silence unpenetrable, one is alone. Alone. Alone...

Erik would not allow this to happen.

He would not allow himself to lay down at the mercy of silence and stillness. Though he was shunned and hated by others, he was alive, though not quite sane, as some would say.

Erik had once been known as the Phantom of the Opera at the infamous Opera Populaire in Paris. After the famous incident of the chandelier, of which no one quite knew the details, he had left the Opera Populaire forever. No more would he haunt those halls... no more would he cry out to his angel of music in his loneliness for comfort and happiness.

As an aimless wanderer, hiding out in empty, abandoned buildings by day, walking deep shadows' paths by night, he had slowly made his way to Bordeaux. One chill night, not knowing or caring of his location, Erik had somehow made his way onto a city street. The lights had been dim, and the street deserted, for it had been well past midnight.

Careful to keep his face hidden in the shadows, Erik had studied the street's buildings with little interest. There were rows of houses on either side. They had all looked as if they had quite wealthy owners, and had been well tended to. Erik had turned his eyes to the other side of the street, the cold, brisk wind causing his cape to swirl around his ankles.

There were houses here too, but on the end of the street, a dark, wooden building loomed up out of the street, high as treetops. It looked no smaller than a fair-sized mansion, with two huge, wooden doors, five stories of windows, pulled shut at the time, and a small balcony on the roof. An elegant sign above the doorway read: Bordeaux Opera House.

Erik had gazed at the silent, sturdy building and silently nodded his approval. Then something on the ground had caught his eye.

A rusted, golden chain ring, attatched to a wooden board, was hidden on the left side of the opera house by moss and weeds.

Erik had known where this trapdoor led. It was quite obvious, considering the Paris Opera House had had the same sort of thing, which had led down to Erik's lair.

At this point, Erik had been starting to long for the sound of the opera, the sights of an opera house. He had not known if he could go back to the life he once had.

Looking out at the empty city streets, and then to the dark, shadowy road he had just traveled, Erik had decided that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. If he did not disturb the managers, maybe...

His decision made, Erik had easily picked the lock of the trapdoor and, oddly enough, had found that it had a ladder descending down into darkness, just like the Paris Opera House.

Erik had found that this opera house also had an underground lair. It looked to have been made long ago, then abandoned and forgotten.

For the next two years, Erik had stayed there, aquired a few things from the opera house... and had been terribly lonely. Though he would not bring himself to admit it... it was daily torment. Slowly he slipped deeper into despair, nearly all hope of bringing him back was gone...

Now, Erik was at work composing an opera. Using the old organ he had taken from the opera house, he was scribbling down notes without pausing for the span of a breath. He was sitting on the organ bench, bent over, using the top of the organ as a desk on which to write. All was still and silent... the way things always were in the accursed lair. No winter's chill came wafting down to meet him, no breath of wind ruffled the sleeves of his shirt. The only sound was that of the scratching of Erik's quill.

Suddenly he looked up, his face expressionless, his eyes sightless. After a few moments he stood up and laid down his papers. He walked to the next "room" and retrieved his cape. After putting it on, he began to walk toward the trapdoor.

_I have been working all night,_ he thought with a bit of pride, _I need to get air. _He turned his head towards the ceiling. _Those fools do not even know what haunts their opera house._

Erik climbed up the ladder and disappeared into the night.


	4. Pigs' Blood

**Thanks for all the reviews! As to the whole vampire thing... well I'm no expert on vampires so whatever I say about the vampires... just go with it. lol**

**Oh, and another thing... I'm really lazy and also I have a lot of work I've got to do for school so please don't get mad at me if I don't update as soon as you like... But I'll try my best :)**

Sitting on her bed, staring out the window and playing with the folds of her dress, Allena bit her lip, trying to figure out a solution to her current situation.

Obviously, human blood was out of the question. Besides the fact that she still had her soul and wouldn't even dream of drinking a human's blood, Allena knew that if, every month, someone were to turn up mysteriously dead, with fang bites on his neck, there would be an uproar, and vampire hunters may possibly get involved.

But what other blood was there? The blood of a common creature such as a bird or a squirrel would not be enough.

She stared hard at the wall, trying to think. There had been a small farm near here as she was flying over Bordeaux...

_That's it!_ Allena thought, _There are pigs there, I saw them! They won't need too many of those..._

Her mind made up, Allena slowly pushed open her door, walked out, and softly closed it behind her. Her eyes darted from one side to the other, and she decided to take the right hallway.

Now that all this business of finding a new place to live was over, Allean began to wonder again just what had happened to her. As she walked through the halls, trying to find a staircase, she went over in her mind what had happened.

She had been at the graveyard near her house, mourning her dead mother and father. Gently laying a small bouquet of flowers between their gravestones, she had wept, and then had felt the icy breath of fear creep over her as she realized she was not alone. When she had turned around, Dracula had been standing there in front of the gate, blocking the only way out.

"Allena," he had whispered, licking his lips as though to taste the name that came from them. "Allena," he said again, a malicious grin forming on those blood red lips.

Allena, now walking down the staircase in the dark opera house, shivered at the memory.

"You have heard, I suppose," Dracula had said quietly, "That one of my brides has been killed."

Allena had said nothing, but could not turn her gaze from his.

"Yes," Dracula had continued, starting to walk toward Allena. "Gabriel Van Helsing destroyed Marishka. And now that my two brides have ceased their weeping – " he had sneered, " – I am looking for a new bride."

Allena finally reached the entrance hall. Deciding she did not really want to relive what happened after that, she directed her thoughts elsewhere. She tried to remember exactly where the barn had been. She would have to walk there, because, for one thing, she did not fancy another flight in her vampire form... and even if she did want to fly there, she was sure to be seen. She was surprised she hadn't been seen on her desparate flight here.

Mapping out her destination in her head, she carefully pushed on the front door.

It was locked.

Allena looked around frantically. The key was nowhere to be seen.

She again pushed on the door in vain. It would not budge.

Sighing, she slid down to sit on the marble floor.

_Now what's going to happen to me?_ she thought desperately. _What happens if I do not quench the thrist?_

Seeming to hear her thoughts, her stomach gave a loud rumble, and she clutched her hand to it.

Trying to calm down, Allena began to think rationally. _Well, there are probably plenty of back doors around here,_ she thought, her head beginning to clear. _I could simply find one of those._

She stood up and began to turn around when she noticed a crack in the wallpaper near the door. Curious, she walked up to it and took a good look at it. She could not see much in the dark, so she felt around. Suddenly her hand touched something metal. She gasped and inserted two of her fingers into the crack and pulled out a key.

Immensely proud of herself, Allena took the key and fit it into the lock.

The sound of not just one, but many locks clicked. Then all was silent.

Allena walked up to the door and tried once more to push it. This time, it opened.

Hurriedly replacing the key inside the crack in the wall, she went outside and quietly shut the door.

_I won't be gone long,_ she assured herself. _The opera house will be unlocked until then._ _But that won't be long._ _I - I hope._

She turned right, and began a fast-paced walk toward where she thought the farm had been. Quickly she looked up at the windows of the opera house to make sure no one was watching. As she was doing that, though, she distinctly heard a sound from somewhere under the opera house.

Allena looked around the base of the opera house. She could see nothing, so she continued quickly on her way.

The hem of her cloak whipped around the building just as a long shadow fell across the opera's front sidewalk.

Allena began to run, knowing exactly where this farm was now. She remembered it was near a willow tree – she had just passed that.

She stopped, out of breath, about half a mile from the opera house. The barn loomed up in front of her, and she could now hear the sounds of all the animals kept there.

Breathing heavily, Allena let herself into the fenced off area. She spotted a pig, and walked up to it.

Cringing, she looked away.

_Please don't make me do this_, she thought miserably.

Taking a deep breath, she bent down, and held the squealing pig still. Her fangs began to transform easily now.

"One."

Allena pulled back her hair.

"Two."

She turned to face the squealing animal.

"Three."

Slowly, she lowered her face...

... and bit down.


	5. Nighttime Stroll

**Okay, I know I've been really really lazy and putting this story off for too long so here's a little in-between chapter to tide you over til I get to the next one (which will be more interesting, I promise)**

Finally reaching the trapdoor in front of the opera house, Erik pushed it open and stood in the moonlight. He stared at the cloudless night sky, the night's sounds playing tantalizingly over and over in his ears. He scowled and began to walk away from the trapdoor when he heard a noise around the corner, as if someone was walking hurriedly in a fixed direction. He peered around the corner of the opera house, but could see nothing for the deep shadows that seemed to flow between buildings and trees. The street lamps had long since gone out.

Figuring it was probably just some sort of night creature, Erik drew his cape closer to him and began to walk down the dark alleyway.

He was absorbed in his thoughts much more this night than any other. The reason was that he had a feeling he had been seen by the opera house. This was not what he had wanted when he'd settled down to live there; he wished to remain invisible and quite undisturbed. Except that three nights ago, just as he was coming back from an evening walk, a maid had been tending to the gardens outside the opera house. Why she had been doing it past midnight was a complete mystery to Erik. Erik had tried, as softly as he could, to glide through the shadows and descend his trapdoor unnoticed. Just as he had closed the door above him, though, he'd heard a gasp. He did not want to think about what that gasp might have meant, but...

Erik tried to assure himself that perhaps this maid had gasped because of some night creature in the garden or something of the sort, but a sinister feeling in the pit of his stomach was telling him differently.

Erik walked on. He loved the scent and feel of the night air, and did not want to relinquish his grip on it just yet. He could almost hear her song in the winds of the night... could almost hear whispered echos of what was once the Music of the Night...

As the wind picked up and a strong breeze played with the hem of his cloak, Erik walked on, taking to the shadows and listening intently.

_If it comes to it_, Erik thought suddenly, _I shall have to kill the maid. I cannot let her ruin what I've accomplished. I am too close to finishing my opera... maybe... just maybe... this one will be the one... and I can end it... maybe..._


	6. Rage

**Sorry it took me _forever_ to update... I am so busy this year...**

A strong wind whipped Allena's hair around her neck as she made her way back to the opera house. She did not trust herself to fly in this wind. Instead, she decided to take a shortcut through the fields of grass by the farmers' houses. The grass blew up around her, tickling her ankles so that every now and then she had to reach down and itch them.

Now that her thirst for blood had been quenched, Allena had no desire to stay out in the harsh wind. Picking up her pace, she looked out across the fields and saw she still had a ways to go before she was able to get to the road.

She growled in annoyance as she bent down to itch her ankle again.

"Hello, my darling."

Allena froze. She did not turn around.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you ran away from me," said the man behind her. He laughed. "But of course we both know you would never do such a thing."

Allena felt his icy breath on the back of her neck before she gasped as his cold fingers slid down her arms.

"Now," said Dracula, "let's do this the right way."

He brushed back her hair from her shoulder and ran his tongue along her neck.

"Just one moment of pain," he whispered in her ear, "and you will be mine forever."

The impact of those words hit Allena just as Dracula's fangs elongated. She quickly slipped out from under his arms and ran.

She heard an echoing laugh that sent chills down her spine and made the hairs on her arms stand up. She kept running, not looking back – until she bumped into a solid object and landed on her back below Dracula.

Dracula stepped closer to Allena, so that now he was standing with his feet on either side of her waist.

"Darling," he crooned, crouching down so that they were face-to-face, "Running will get you nowhere. Stay with me, and I can give you eternal life!"

Allena's breath was coming out in gasps. She willed herself to move, but her body would not obey. In fact, her hand was reaching up toward Dracula's face of its own accord. She winced as her hand caressed his icy cheek, and he clasped his hand around hers.

"That's it," whispered Dracula, moving so that he was on his knees. "Touch me... want me..."

He slid his fingers through hers and pinned her hand to the ground.

Her heart was beating faster...

His fingers slowly, tantalizingly worked their way up from her chest to her neck.

Cold sweat was beginning to form on her forehead...

His fang ran over her cheek, creating a thin line of blood.

"This time," he promised, "You will desire my blood just as much as I desire yours..."

Suddenly, Allena's head cleared, and when she looked up, what she saw was not a seductive, enticing thrill of a man, but a terrible monster hiding beneath a mask of dead flesh.

Rage mixed with fear engulfed her, and she immediately transformed into the hideous bat-creature. She used her wings to propel herself out from under the now angry Dracula. But before Allena could even fly a few feet, Dracula had transformed into his true form and pinned her to the ground once more.

The rage taking over her senses, Allena tried once again to push Dracula off of her. Now in his true, terrible form, Dracula would never allow that to happen. As rage filled Allena's eyes, it also filled Dracula's. He suddenly threw her into the air with his powerful claws, and before she could become airborne, he snatched her back down and was once again on top of her. Straddling her thighs, he yelled, "You _will_ obey me!"

Allena screeched as Dracula tore his claws into her chest, creating long gouge marks. Her shriek turned into a cry of pain as she transformed back into her human form. She could hold on to the rage no longer; her fear was overpowering her anger.

She instinctively curled up into a ball as Dracula lashed out at her with his claws. She could tell he was not using his full force, just enough to remind her who was the master. Dracula did not want her dead, she knew, but that did not stop him from slashing her over and over again.

Finally, after what seemed to Allena like the most painful hours on end in her life, Dracula ceased to hurt her and transformed back into his human form.

His breathing harsh and ragged, Dracula bent low over Allena and said menacingly, "I will give you a choice. Come find me in Transylvania, and I will forgive you and make you my bride. Stay here, and I will find you once again and kill you."

Allena was slowly slipping into unconsciousness. The last thing she saw was Dracula stepping over her, and then everything faded to black.


	7. A Sign

**Two chapters in one day! I guess this sort of makes up for my long absence from this story...**

A strong wind whipped Erik's cape around him as he moved within the shadows, getting further and further away from the opera house. The wind might have blown off his mask, had he not been holding onto it.

He was doing now as he did almost every night: listening for the faintest sound of an angel's music, trying to find, once again, the true Music of the Night.

Erik did not communicate with anyone, nor did he much care about anyone anymore, including himself. He had not eaten in two days, and now looked more like a skeleton than ever before. His music was all that was keeping him going.

Turning onto a small field, Erik looked up at the moon, wondering, as he'd wondered all his life, how God, if he existed, could allow someone so hideous to live. Did God know how tormented Erik was? Did he even care?

"If you do exist," Erik whispered to the sky, continuing to walk forward with his eyes on the moon, "If you are truly the saviour of men, as some say," he narrowed his eyes, "Then bring me a sign. Show me that my abysmal and tormented life is worth something!"

Erik listened and watched the night, but no miraculous sign came to him; no mighty voice boomed from the heavens to tell him the reason he existed.

Though Erik had expected nothing to happen, he suddenly felt worse than he had all night.

Scowling, Erik continued walking, veering off the street and heading into a field.

He tried to think why he even bothered. Why did he stay at an opera house, of all things?

_Because that is all I know,_ he answered himself. _I have known nothing else. Music is what my spirit yearns for..._ he looked down and kicked up some grass, causing it to scatter about in the high winds.

_If Christine cannot realize that, so be it!_ _My life is nothing without her. I have no one to bring my music to life. No one to care for. I have no one, I've always had no one, and I always will have no one._ _My music is the reason I live. I simply do not have a soul mate. I have no love. I am given none in return. That is the way it is._

An angry tear fell quickly down Erik's cheek, to be carried away by the wind.

Suddenly the wind that had been blowing ferociously died down to a soft whisper, and something on the edge of the field that Erik had not seen before caught his attention.

It looked at first to be a pile of clothing, but as Erik cautiously drew closer, he saw auburn hair flowing gracefully with the soft wind. Though still too far to see much, Erik could hear the sounds of muffled sobbing.

Normally, Erik would have hurriedly hidden in shadows and left, but when he got as close as he dared, he stood transfixed at what he saw.

The girl lying in the grass was covered in blood. Her clothes were tattered and torn, exposing soft, white skin. The clothes looked like they had been ripped apart by some giant claw, for underneath the tattered material were long gouges in the girl's skin, from where she was bleeding.

She was sobbing uncontrollably, coughing up blood and trembling.

Erik, still hidden in shadow, stared at the girl for a while, not quite sure what he was seeing. His breath caught in his throat as she lifted her head and looked to the heavens. Her face, illuminated by moonlight, was white and smooth, marred by nothing save for a thin slash on her left cheek caked with dried blood.

She began whispering words he could not hear, and then she began to cough and her face was hidden once more behind auburn hair.

Erik could do nothing but look at her as she continued her muffled sobbing. There were many questions running through his mind. Who was she? Where did she come from? What happened? Would she heal?

Something about her awakened an almost obsessive desire in Erik to hear her voice. He paused for a moment, then stepped closer - and stepped on a branch. He silently cursed as the branch snapped in two beneath his boot.

The girl immediately sat upright and her fevered stare shifted to the edge of the forest where Erik was hidden in shadow.

"Who's there?" she asked, her voice quavering.

Erik kept as silent as ever, gazing intently at her from the shadows of the forest's edge.

"Not him," the girl said. "No, please, go away... just end it... please... please..."

The girl was becoming faint. She could hardly keep herself sitting up.

Erik cautiously stepped out of the shadows, the moonlight enveloping him and accenting the mask against his face.

For a few moments they stared at each other, taking everything in. Then, suddenly, the girl's eyes rolled back in her head, and she was unconscious in Erik's arms moments later.

Erik gazed at the girl in his arms. Her skin was softer than he had imagined... but there was blood all over her, and she was continuously loosing more. Erik looked at her for a moment, then lifted her as easily as if she were a child. He needed to get her to the opera house before she bled to death. He did not know what would happen, but somehow he felt he needed to take care of her. Somehow he knew he had been sent a sign.


End file.
